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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636595">Chronicles of the Struggle Sprite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twaggy_Theatricks/pseuds/Twaggy_Theatricks'>Twaggy_Theatricks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Chronicles of the Struggle Sprite [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pokemon - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Gen, Pokemon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:47:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twaggy_Theatricks/pseuds/Twaggy_Theatricks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of a Pokémon adventure in Ultra Sun, featuring a pokémon as the protagonist, and a human trainer as a deuteragonist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Chronicles of the Struggle Sprite [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Zero Base Friendship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <b>Preface</b>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Many Pokémon fanfictions exist out there; and as I’ve read many, I can say that the bulk of them aren’t necessarily good, from a professional perspective.</p><p class="western">I can also say, to their defense, that they aren’t <em>designed</em> to be professional: they’re usually designed to be personal — something which I understand is worthy of respect.</p><p class="western">So, with respect to these numerous fanfictions, I can say that the stigma that still plagues them as works of inherent lesser quality doesn’t help them stand out, and for a long time, I’ve avoided making one. Partly because there’s less stigma, and partly because I just like tinkering with ideas without having to subscribe to a fandom.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Having worked on countless projects up until this point, I’ve realized that I have a problem. To put it mildly, I lack sustainable balance. And that comes from either a lack of sufficient research, or other times, an overwhelming amount of world-building that becomes hard to introduce.</p><p class="western">This realization allowed me to really look at my weaknesses and acknowledge them as such, thus also making me decide that I required training. Before writing and completing a fully original project in a fully original setting, maybe I should hone my skills with a world that I’m already <em>very</em> familiar with, alongside a set of rules that I can transform without having to make them all up just yet.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Before beginning work on this project, I did ask myself what I could possibly bring to the table that hasn’t already been done before. Few things are truly original, at this point. But after looking into the topic, I think I found a suitable answer — or, well, a personal one. <em>Research</em>. More specifically, research weaved into style.</p><p class="western">I can’t and will not promise that this tale will be 100% well-written or enjoyable for all: it is, after all, the retelling of a personal journey within Pokémon Ultra Sun, thus standing on the same pedestal as any other fanfiction of that type. Plus, I’m a non-native, so I simply never assume that my English is perfect.</p><p class="western">What I <em>can</em> promise, however, is that the content of this project can and will be composed of all the elements from Pokémon that makes it what it is according to my personal perspective: which makes it unlikely for you to have seen everything here, starting with the treatment of the protagonist and his human deuteragonist.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With that said, enjoy the following first chapter. After it, I’ll add short informative sections at the end of every chapter, starting from Chapter 2. Research is a huge part of this project, after all, and I’m planning to stick with that theme. Most importantly, I hope that experienced Pokémon consumers can appreciate this work about as much as those who have little to no knowledge of it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">~Twaggy</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <b>Chapter 1: </b>
</p><p class="western">
  <b>Zero Base Friendship</b>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A breeze, fresh and gentle.</p><p class="western">‘Twas the messenger of the wind, and herald of the day’s mood. It was welcoming today, passing through all like a silent salute. Bushes rustled, tree leaves waved, and sounds began to ride the air as activity continued. There were excited screams of children; for some, discovering the joy of spending time with their Rockruffs and Pikipeks. There were conversations of adults, mild in tone, but intricate in meaning. There were the steps of those who simply wished to admire the view.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And then there was the little Buneary, immobile in the breeze, sitting on a rock seat larger than its body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Bountiful heat, bright and sweet.</p><p class="western">‘Twas the messenger of the sun, and herald of the day’s face. It was pleasant today, the rays of light gifted to all like a secret snuggle. Clouds were parted, the sky was blue, and the light had risen high to brighten the sight of Iki Town and its roads. Humans and Pokémon alike moved along, motivated by the business of their lives.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But still there was the little Buneary, immobile in the heat, sitting on a rock seat larger than its body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The day changed with the time that passed.</p><p class="western">Those who basked in it moved alongside it, hour after hour. Yet the little Buneary remained immobile, utterly unconcerned by the passing of time, and the embrace of sensations. It was looked at by few, and it did not care. It was talked to by fewer, and still, it did not care. There was but one truth for the little Buneary, and it was the imperious need to react on a whim. But there was, apparently, nothing worth reacting to.</p><p class="western">So, simply, it did not react.</p><p class="western">It stared and stared as the sounds of the nearby play fighting Bunearies filled its ears. It stared and stared, as the colors of the day evolved into those of the night. There were nearby cries and faraway voices, all brimming with the simple complexity of the life around the land. Perhaps, even, with a natural talent for recognizing sounds, one such as the little Buneary could recognize them all. Create differences between friends and foes, kin and strangers. But there was nothing to wonder, nothing to react to. And so, there was no way to tell.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Silence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Finally, a growl, long and ferocious.</p><p class="western">One of the little Buneary’s ears unrolled as it finally decided to absorb the sounds surrounding its seat. Though both ears had remained shut as usual, one of them would be necessary to identify this sound. It was, apparently, worth reacting to. The little Buneary blinked, realizing — as if it couldn’t feel it — that the noise came from its own body.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">‘<em>ungry.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Barely a thought, barely a desire to fulfill it. The little Buneary stood up on its rock seat, leaped off of it and bounced towards the road, with an ease contrasting with its previous immobility. There were other Bunearies around the little one, some still active, others, already asleep. But they paid it no mind. It paid them no mind, either. Its unrolled ear was busy searching for sounds, sounds that the little Buneary was already used to hear.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">‘<em>ungry.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The thought appeared again, followed by a light belly growl. It reminded the little Buneary that the need was, in fact, imperious. So, it decided to try harder: by unrolling the second ear, using the full might of its sharp hearing to look for that sound. And then, it stopped to focus.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Steps.</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There were thousands of steps, of course. There were thousands of steps every day, from a variety of creatures. But in that Buneary’s mind, <em>steps</em> referred to that unique type, almost impossible to hear as it gently scratched the ground with an irregular pattern. The little Buneary blinked once, then bounced off towards that direction.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A silence, alive and awake.</p><p class="western">‘Twas the messenger of the dark, and herald of the night’s heart. It was serene as always, the waves of its stillness engulfing all like a boundless bastion. Obscurity ruled, shadows danced, and a round moon glittered in a sky full of uneven white dots. The humans were gone; the Pokémon, too, had gone to sleep, and for those still awake, they remained locked in constructions from which fading lights could be seen, as if trying to imitate the stars above.</p><p class="western">And then there was the little Buneary, immobile in the blackness; but this time, ready to react.</p><p class="western">A secret resided within its mind: the little Buneary was fond of the night. It was when its eyes were as useless as when they were inactive in the day. It was when, without surrounding lights, it could not even see its own paws. All that mattered then were the sensations around its body, many of which it could pick up with its naturally trained ears.</p><p class="western">And so, it listened and listened, searching for the steps. They appeared again, somewhere far away. But that somewhere was precise in its mind, precise enough for the little Buneary to resume its hopping. The quality of its movements had changed: they were careful yet carefree, complex yet simple. They were obvious like the little Buneary’s presence of the road, yet stealthy like the soundless bounce from its body as it leaped on until it could hear itself grow closer and closer to the steps.</p><p class="western">The little Buneary could not see them, but with ease, it could hear them.</p><p class="western">Their steps had begun to scratch the ground with renewed agitation: a sign that they were on the trail of their objective, shared with the little Buneary chasing them. Food. They frequently stopped and went on, moving their whiskers to sniff the air in direction of the most accessible amount of food they could pick up. That sniffing could, of course, be heard by the little Buneary behind them, and they had, of course, no reason to believe they were tailed. The little Buneary had learned, without giving it much thought, that hunters locked in their area of expertise became laser-focused, and therefore, distracted.</p><p class="western">Some of them separated from the main force to move towards the humans’ homes; the others continued on and on, until they reached a vast expanse of trees. Though the little Buneary could not recognize them easily in the dark, it could hear the wind caressing their leaves. And when that sound changed, it knew that it had reached the wanted destination.</p><p class="western">Fruity trees, where the black-furred Rattatas, for they were the hunters in question, could feed in relative peace.</p><p class="western">But as the little Buneary went up the path that led towards that place, it suddenly stopped, as a new flurry of sounds assaulted its sensitive ears.</p><p class="western">The little Buneary had been following the Rattatas night after night in order to enjoy the leftovers of their food hunts. Nothing of substance had ever happened, but this time was different. This time, the Rattatas were releasing high-pitched hisses and aggressive cries, while flapping sounds could be heard above them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Wat?</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That was the only thought within the little Buneary’s mind. It hopped up the forest’s path and its eyes widened.</p><p class="western">Before the little Buneary could be seen the glow of moonlight, illuminating the ground on which the familiar army of black rodents agitated themselves. They moved in every direction, and some of them even tried to leap towards the trees. Above them could be seen a large group of Pikipeks, relentlessly attacking what they most certainly considered to be unwanted invaders. Both parties were locked in a chaotic struggle against each other, attempting to get rid of the other party.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Wat?</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The little Buneary timidly approached the bout as it attempted to make sense of this chaos. Was it a battle? Play fighting? Nothing of this scale had ever existed in front of its eyes. Noises. Screams. Furtive movements, organized for some, random for others. Bodies, colliding against each other before rising back up to continue the struggle. Others, falling from the sky, ambushing their enemies in assaults that only they could carry. And there, on the side, a group of Rattatas would climb the tree, then leap from its trunk to bite the unsuspecting Pikipeks in mid-air, while the latter would dodge the acrobatic movement with equally acrobatic evasive maneuvers.</p><p class="western">It was all... mesmerizing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">…‘<em>ungry.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The little Buneary took another step forward, until it was suddenly launched in the heart of the conflict. For the first time in its life, it let out a surprised gasp as it fell towards the tree. Swiftly turning around as it got back on its feet, it noticed that more Rattatas had appeared from behind to assist their comrades. They ran towards the little Buneary, and the latter, in a movement of self-defense that all Bunearies learned to use, uncoiled one of its ears to smash its muscular tip into a jumping Rattata. As the foe was launched back from whence it came, the little Buneary hopped above another, avoiding its attack, then landed on its back, squashing it with the full weight of its small body in the process. Then, using it as a platform, the little Buneary performed a leaping sidestep to dodge the third one.</p><p class="western">Suddenly, new sound.</p><p class="western">The little Buneary jerked its head up, jumping high towards the tree with evident ease before using its trunk to dash towards where it previously stood, a specific spot on the ground on which it could still hear the flapping of wings of the Pikipek that had attacked it. Said Pikipek only had time to gaze upward before the little Buneary landed on it, squashing it like the Rattata before.</p><p class="western">New sound, following a scream. And another, and yet another.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">How long did the conflict last, the little Buneary did not know. All it was aware of was that its instincts had forcefully awakened. The night only grew darker, so it could not properly use its eyes. The foes all around only grew louder, so it could not properly use its ears to both attack and listen to react. The assaults only grew fiercer, so it could not properly dodge all of them. The air around the battlefield grew hotter, too, as the efforts of all parties intensified.</p><p class="western">But amid this confusion existed yet another simple truth, for the little Buneary.</p><p class="western">As it moved without stopping, in a valiant attempt to remain as undamaged as possible despite the situation, it was the only Pokémon in this struggle that could afford to hit everything around it. From its perspective, everything was a potential threat. The little Buneary was an agent of discord locked between two tides, and neither could properly act in unison so long as they attacked it alongside their enemies. So, little by little, it became easier and easier for the little Buneary to move, attack, defend, evade, and use its various opponents against each other. It learned fast and copied the agility of the rare foes it could see, because in such a dire position, it had to do so in order to survive.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was just as the little Buneary began to truly get used to this rhythm that it changed, as suddenly as it had come.</p><p class="western">It started with a gap. A gap of sound and cold among the maelstrom of sensations. It was followed by another, and yet another, as well as the slow realization that some of the little Buneary’s strikes, some more random than others, stopped hitting anything except air. The gaps grew more and more numerous before completely surrounding the little Buneary, who increased his efforts to make the gaps disappear. It attacked and attacked, kept on leaping, kept on moving: for without that established rhythm, there was nothing more to <em>not</em> see. No chaos meant no enemy, no enemy meant no danger, and no danger meant nothing to react to.</p><p class="western">Yet, inexorably, the neglected stare of the moon made itself clearer.</p><p class="western">And with it, the shadows of the infinite enemies vanished. The little Buneary breathed in and out in rapid succession, looking in all directions, confused by the lack of confusion.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">‘<em>Kay.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Barely a thought, still, but enough to calm down. The little Buneary gazed at the moon, bathing in its light and the surrounding cold, contrasting with the heat inside of the Pokémon’s body. Then, it looked back down and uncoiled both of its ears, listening. Listening. Listening.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Silence.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It had stretched around the little Buneary, completely replacing the chaos before it. It was punctuated by the leaves dancing with the wind’s embrace, the sudden movements of the lone Pokémon who cared to listen as it searched for a lost stage that it alone still stood upon. But as the reality of that disappearance sank through its mind, the little Buneary finally regained its immobility. Its ears remained opened, because that stage had been reached through them. So, it believed, perhaps it would come back to darken the moon’s gaze once again should the Buneary try to find it.</p><p class="western">After all, there was nothing else to wonder. Nothing else to react to.</p><p class="western">Eventually, a shiver, short and decisive, shook its body. </p><p class="western">It was with it that the little Buneary realized that the darkness had come, but not its stage. It looked around, noting that the moon had disappeared at some point during its attentive immobility. The day was beginning to form, and no one had come.</p><p class="western">No one had come.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>...Rok.</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">By reflex more than by will, the little Buneary began its trek back to the rock seat. Each hop was steady, firm and agile; but the mind of the little Buneary remained ablaze with sensations.</p><p class="western">Every detail. It remembered every detail.</p><p class="western">The sudden sharp leaps above or around, to avoid teeth and beaks.</p><p class="western">The pain of a bite, everywhere, grazing through fur to reach the skin.</p><p class="western">The stab of a bird, fierce and sudden like the cry that announced it.</p><p class="western">The cacophony of numbers, wings and paws, assaulting all senses.</p><p class="western">The strike of ears, precise and powerful, forcing retreat for all that felt it.</p><p class="western">That movement, one jump towards the tree, one away from it.</p><p class="western">When the little Buneary climbed atop the rock seat at last, its ears slowly curled up into position, blocking most sounds like it always did, so that it could keep the mind inside lit with the fire of memory.</p><p class="western">Then a growl resounded, echo of a forgotten goal.</p><p class="western">Immediately, the little Buneary hopped off, turned back with perfect timing, and struck behind it. The noise that followed reverberated through its body as the impact formed a small crater at the surface of the rock seat, causing some of the surrounding Pokémon to perk up their ears and briefly look at the sight. The little Buneary, however, contemplated the point of impact, as it remembered every enemy struck with that same attack. It climbed back atop the rock seat, its favorite spot, letting out a single, murmured chirp.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Ful.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fake Beginner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The journey truly begins! To start with, from the point of view of the human.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>A simple quietness appeared once again inside the house, spreading like wind across a boundless cave. Estrel closed his eyes and sat on the bed, happy to bathe in that serene silence. Eventually, outside noise began to poke at it, only to enhance its beauty with their own: the wind rustling over nearby tall grass, chirps and cries acting as proof of the existence of nearby wildlife, and Estrel’s own breathing, calmed by the surrounding emptiness.</p><p>Then, an expected ringing broke the moment entirely as Estrel took out his phone and placed it next to his ear. “Hiya, Mommy.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hello, sweetie!</em>” greeted the familiar voice. “<em>How’s the moving going?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel hid an exasperated sigh. The game of questions began. “Great!” he exclaimed, more joyfully than he felt. “I’m done unpacking. Prof. Kukui helped with the… the furniture. Not all of it was in place.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oh, there was no need for Machamps?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I asked that too actually, but no. I think he just likes the workout. Left just a moment ago to fetch the starters and all? He was lively.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Ah, yes, yes! Your journey begins, that’s good. So, how do you feel?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh… Relaxed?” Estrel nodded to himself. “Yeah. Relaxed.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Do you know which one you’ll choose?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Whoever’s the water one, honestly.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You always did had an affinity for those, didn’t you?”</em></p><p> </p><p>Estrel briefly grinned, forgetting that his mother couldn’t see it. “They also work well with Foudroy.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oooh, yes.</em>” she giggled. “<em>Honestly, I don’t know how you trainers manage to keep all these types in your heads, it doesn’t make much sense to me.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel shrugged, deciding to lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. “It’s like everything. Just practice and trial and error.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>That makes sense, honestly. Well, do be careful with all this, okay? This isn’t like your Frontier-related study trips, it’s—</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“An <em>actual</em> Pokémon journey, filled with fully wild Pokémon, many of which I don’t know including how dangerous they might be.” Estrel recited with monotonous habit. “Mommy, I <em>just</em> started. Seriously, you always make it sound like there’s just random Charizards lurking in the wild, but it’s not <em>that</em> bad, at first.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Ah, sorry. I guess I’m just worried again, but I’ll get used to it.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. I’ll write you stuff once in a while, on top of calls. Also, pictures.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yes! Please send pictures.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The phone suddenly vibrated, informing Estrel that he had just received a new message. “Ah, got a message.” Estrel told his mother. “That’s probably Prof. Kukui telling me to come to Iki Town. I’ll be going, now.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Enjoy your start, sweetie.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. I’ll call you again tonight. Bye!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Bye!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel hung up then rose from the bed, making sure to check himself thanks to the full length mirror next to his bed. He was greeted with the image of a dark-skinned teenager with honey blond-colored hair kept short and tousled, and eyes of a brown so dark that they appeared pitch-black. Clothing-wise, he had a simple yellow shirt, green pants that covered his legs, and an equally green jacket with dark green gear patterns all over it.</p><p> </p><p>“...Oh.” Estrel muttered with a frown. He pulled a steel gray, gear-shaped necklace from his pocket and passed it around his neck. <em>There</em>. With this, <em>surely</em>, people wouldn’t assume that the gears on his shirt were flowers again. With that properly checked, Estrel laced his brownish yellow boots, took his trusty shoulder bag and headed outside. It was time for his first true journey to start.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Estrel had to admit it: he wasn’t used to the heat yet, and the first route leading to Iki Town forced him to move up as if he were moving towards a small cliff. But despite this, the wind was enjoyable, the nearby palm trees were accompanied with bushes filled with colorful flowers, and the few people that shared the road with him were cordial enough to greet him — in which case he’d of course greet them back — but distant enough to go about their business without pressing for more, which was most certainly to his liking.<br/>
Then, as Estrel followed along the nearby wooden fences, he came across a large patch of tall grass, and to his surprise, had a wild pokémon almost immediately run his way.</p><p> </p><p>“...Huh.” Estrel commented, surprised. The pokémon looked to be some sort of small brow weasel or mongoose with brown fur and a large yellow stripe going from the middle of its head to the tip of its tail. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a… Yungoos, right?” Estrel said, more to himself than to the wild pokémon. It let out a cry that surely meant to sound fearsome, but unfortunately, it was high-pitched enough that it sounded closer to adorable than anything else. Estrel pulled out a pokéball out of his pocket. “Sorry in advance,” he apologized to the pokémon. “Foudroy, g-”</p><p> </p><p>But before Estrel could call for his partner, more pokémon cries resounded, this time coming from behind Estrel. A small owl, a kitty and an equally small sea lion came rushing forth, shouting at the suddenly cornered Yungoos. Its courage deflating, the wild pokémon took the wise decision to retreat back into the wild grass, while the other three cheered for their victory, leaving Estrel slightly confused. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey there, cousin!”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel turned towards the familiar voice of Professor Kukui. Just like in the video call they had seen each other in, the man kept with him a fancy white cap, and an equally fancy lab coat under which his bare chest was easily visible. Though he retained a serious expression, Estrel waved back at him. “You know,” he began casually, “I’d have called you a show-off before ‘cause of the whole lab coat/bare chest combo, but now that I can <em>feel</em> the heat here?” his eyes widened. “You’re <em>very</em> justified.”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui appeared slightly taken aback by the comment, then laughed it off. “Glad you see that too!” he exclaimed happily. “You’re <em>Eshtrel</em>, right? I saw you get attacked like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel nodded. The man’s effort to get the pronunciation down was always a treat. “I am, and uh, it was just a wild Yungoos. Not really much of an attack.” the three helping Pokémon, most likely the Starters, approached Kukui.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like you had a bit of help, too! I’m looking after these Pokémon, but they dashed right out on their own to save you!”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel shrugged. “Didn’t see them coming. I already have a ‘mon of my own, though, so, I would’ve survived.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hah! That’s good to know. But hey, I guess I’m getting ahead of myself, too. ‘Welcome to Alola, the Pokémon paradise!’ is what I’m supposed to be saying first. As you already know, I’m Kukui, yeah. The Pokémon Professor.”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel pointed at him. “Is this the part where you just give me a summary about why this place is cool?”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui flashed a thumbs-up. “You got that right, cousin!”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel nodded. “Okay. Lay it on me!”</p><p> </p><p>“People and Pokémon live and work together here in Alola, too.” Kukui continued. “So don’t you ever forget: you can go anywhere, yeah, as long as you got Pokémon in your corner!”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel was certain he could take care of that poor Yungoos even without Foudroy, but he chose to nod studiously and let the man talk. After all, he <em>would</em> be far less confident if he <em>did</em> start his adventure by meeting a wild Charizard.</p><p> </p><p>“Wild Pokémon could be lurking in the tall grass, yeah, just waiting to leap out and bite you, but you’ll be fine if you’ve got a partner of your own! Here, let me introduce you to the Pokémon that helped you just now.” As if on cue, the three Starters moved towards one of the wooden fences staring at Estrel with curious eyes. “This is the Grass-type Pokémon Rowlet.” Kukui stated as Rowlet let out the cutest of cute chirps. “And the Fire-type Pokémon Litten.” Litten, to counter Rowlet’s cuteness, let out a purr and meow combo, which worked well with its black-furred “it’s not like I care about you or anything” appearance and attitude. “And the Water-type Pokémon Popplio.” Popplio seemed confused when Estrel’s eyes locked on him, but then it seemed to remember that it was supposed to be cute, so it stood on its paws and wagged its tail.</p><p> </p><p>Estrel gazed at Kukui, raising an eyebrow. “Is it just me or that presentation sounded a bit… minimalist?”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui grinned. “That was the point, cousin. I think it’s important for a trainer to trust their gut to gauge what they want to do with their Pokémon. The fact of the matter is… one of <em>these</em> will become your first Alolan partner! And hey, maybe that’s why they wanted to save you?”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel raised a finger. “Which by the way makes their earlier action <em>way</em> more selfish than before?”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui laughed. “Maybe, but they <em>should</em> work hard to be liked, shouldn’t they?” he placed a hand on Estrel’s shoulder. “Go on and choose the one you’d like to keep as your partner, cousin!”</p><p> </p><p>“Popplio.”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui grinned again. “You’re one of the ‘I chose in advance’ types, aren't you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes and no.” Estrel said. “Honestly, I’m hesitating between Popplio and Rowlet, but I’m just really faithful to Water-types.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha. Well, Popplio works hard and makes some pretty awesome balloons!”</p><p> </p><p>“An abs-seeking seal armed with bubbly balloons of death?” Estrel translated for himself as he walked towards the Starters and briefly knelt to pick up his Popplio. “I am <em>sold</em>.” The Popplio’s tail wagged again as it happily clapped with its paws like the <em>adorable</em> little clown it was. Meanwhile, the two other Pokémon ran back to Kukui. If they were bitter, they were champions at hiding it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and by the way, d’you want to give it a nickname?” Kukui inquired.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure! What’s its gender?”</p><p> </p><p>“Male.”</p><p> </p><p>Then Estrel knew <em>exactly</em> what name to give it. “Cerinia.”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui crossed his arms with a look of mock suspicion. “<em>Definitely</em> the ‘I chose in advance’ type.”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel turned back. “I <em>am</em> the scheming type, but this is… more like a reference and an homage.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I’ll keep my judgment for later, cousin! Have fun growing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks!” Estrel glanced back at his Popplio. “Uh, so that means I can have official Pokémon battles, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely! You’re now what we call a Pokémon Trainer — not a big surprise, yeah, since you’re familiar with the word already. Here’s a pokéball for Popplio, too. It should feel nice and cozy in there. Hmm, what was its nickname?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Nice and cozy? How does he know that?</em>  “Cerinia!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks cousin. I’ll try to get used to it.” Kukui handed over a pokéball to Estrel, who immediately threw it at Cerinia. A quick flash of white light beamed, and the Pokémon was inside. Estrel picked up the ball and put it away in his bag, both ready to travel and realizing he never stopped to ask himself how it felt to be inside a Pokéball.</p><p> </p><p>“All right!” Kukui exclaimed. “Then let’s get going up to Iki Town. Time to meet the Island Kahuna!”</p><p> </p><p>Island… <em>Kahuna</em>? “<em>That</em> word isn’t one I’m familiar with, though.” Estrel admitted, pointing at Kukui. “Is he or she the… mayor of the island?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, something like that!” Kukui put a hand to his chin, visibly unsure of how to communicate the idea. “It’s a mix of things, yeah, but I guess you could say they’re like Gym Leaders, overseas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Estrel frowned, trying to remember his knowledge of the topic. “So, like, strong Trainers, but also guardian of local values related to Pokémon and their relationship with humans?”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui nodded. “I can see you’ll be a big help when I’m lost in translation, cousin. Truth is, your new partner is a gift from the kahuna, not me. So, I figured we should go show it off and say a proper thank you. It may not be the only gift you get!”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel blinked as he processed the information. “That makes sense.” He was more thrilled with the prospect of meeting crazy-strong Pokémon Trainers than anything else — though paying his respect to one that gave him his starter <em>did</em> make perfect sense. With that in mind, the two crossed through the patch of tall grass before Estrel suddenly stopped, a hungry smile briefly lit his face. “Would it be alright if you went ahead and I joined you later?”</p><p> </p><p>Kukui turned, never witnessing it, but showing surprise nonetheless. “Sure thing, cousin! Any re- ah.” he grinned. “A little test?”</p><p> </p><p>“An <em>enjoyable</em> little test.” Estrel confirmed. “Cerinia, go!” Estrel pulled out his pokéball and threw it towards the tall grass, waiting for a Yungoos to show its face. One eventually did so, making the mistake of revealing itself with a high-pitched battle cry.</p><p> </p><p>“Cerinia!” <em>Water-type</em>, Estrel thought to himself, <em>and a Starter</em>. <em>He likely has Pound or Tackle. But does he have Water Gun</em>? “Use Water Gun!” surely enough, Cerinia took a deep breath, then threw out a stream of water at the Yungoos, who was pushed away by the sheer force of it. Then, it ran towards Cerinia, growling intensely.</p><p> </p><p><em>Ah, Tackle.</em> “Cerinia, jump to the left side, then use Water Gun!” </p><p> </p><p>Cerinia gazed at his Trainer in confusion, which unfortunately left more than enough time for the Yungoos to Tackle it. </p><p> </p><p><em>...Too complicated.</em> “Me and my stupid habits.” Estrel muttered. “Cerinia, use Water Gun!” Cerinia did as asked, throwing another Water Gun at the Yungoos, who was once again pushed aside — but this time, it didn’t rise back on its paws. </p><p> </p><p>“Nice job, cousin!” Kukui commented. “How’d you feel?”</p><p> </p><p>“A bit stupid?” Estrel said as he knelt in front of Cerinia, gently patting his head. “Kinda forgot that Cerinia literally just met me.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve all gotta start somewhere,” Kukui said. Then, he smiled with compassion. “I guess I’ll meet you later, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>Estrel nodded. “If there’s no rush with meeting the kahuna, then yeah. I’m kind of a slow starter, because of things like this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you worry about a thing, cousin. See you around!”</p><p> </p><p>With a last wave, Prof. Kukui walked his way up to Iki Town. As he did so, a breeze, fresh and gentle, began to blow towards Estrel. He then looked down and, to his surprise, saw a little Buneary hopping its way towards him, crossing path with Prof. Kukui without so much as a flinch. Estrel frowned in confusion: he’d learned that many wild Pokémon didn’t feel very comfortable being this close to humans, and this particular Buneary had both of its ears curled up, as if it was trying to deafen every noise around it.</p><p> </p><p>“Ready up, Cerinia.” Estrel said by reflex as his Popplio followed his gaze. But strangely, the oncoming Buneary ignored them, too. Without so much as a single look in Estrel or Cerinia’s direction, it reached for a rock on the side of the road, jumped atop of it, then sat down and simply remained there.<br/>
Staring.</p><p> </p><p><em>Didn’t know there were Bunearies in Alola.</em> Estrel thought to himself. He might consider catching that one if no one else cared to do so by the time he’d get more pokéballs, but he had a bit of a bias against what he remembered of its evolution requirements. At any rate, if that Buneary wasn’t going to do anything, there was no use attacking it just yet. Plenty of Yungooses could serve as opponents for now. “Well, Cerinia!” Estrel exclaimed, concluding his train of thought as he crouched to face his Popplio. “Lucky you, I’ve got a few Potions with me. Mommy likes to make sure I’m extra prepared, so, kind of a reflex by now. Now, then… what do you say we practice some more?”</p><p> </p><p>Cerinia happily nodded, clapping his paws together in approval. Estrel wasn’t sure if Cerinia just wanted to spend time with him or if he was excited for a new battle, but either way, Estrel wanted to spend time with his new partner. There was much to learn.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>♦To get a good feel for the overall adventure, I restarted the game using another copy with the intent of replaying it completely so that I'd have a close perspective of what I felt and thought with every event of the game. So far, it has helped me make accurate and personal descriptions of the early parts of Alola through the lens of Estrel. I am essentially creating my own version of Alola, but I still want it to have elements of the source material.</p><p> </p><p>♦Kukui's dialogue uses actual lines from both game and the Japanese version of the anime — For no other reason that I enjoy the Japanese voice acting.<br/>As a fun fact, I grew up with the English, French and Japanese versions with specific preferences in all three. I'm simply in my Japanese phase right now.<br/>That said, I used No Commentary Walkthroughs as a way to have direct access to Kukui's in-game lines. Many of them have been modified to fit the conversation he has with Estrel, and a number of them were made up based on my understanding of his speech patterns. His body language's inspired by his Anime counterpart, however.</p><p> </p><p>♦The idea behind Fake Beginner was to stay as true to the title as possible: that is to say, forging a trainer who's already well-versed with Pokémon tropes in-universe. This is, of course, related to his background, which you'll learn more about as the story progresses. I have been playing these games for eight generations now, and so it was important for me to show that Estrel is the kind of character who already has a life; this adventure's going to be a big part of it, but not the full scope of who he is.<br/>It also serves as a great contrast with his early start, since the Pokémon he gets at first simply can't follow his lead. He truly has to start anew; a fact that I wanted to accurately portray. </p><p> </p><p>♦Adding the protagonist in the last part was actually a difficult task. I wanted to have Estrel cross pathes with the little Buneary to show their first interaction (or lack of interaction, rather) without making that Buneary feel special instead of weird. I didn't know where to put the scene of their encounter, but I eventually managed to place it at the end more naturally. It makes it more striking that way, or so I believe.<br/>That, and I couldn't find a reason why it couldn't be sitting on its rock seat, since it essentially stays there most of the day.</p><p> </p><p>♦Estrel is a name based on the Portuguese word for Star: Estrella. Think of his name as the masculine form of that word. Due to the way the Portuguese "S" works, it is indeed pronounced "esh-trel". It'll show up several times in the story, since it's not immediately obvious. I want to make sure readers get used to it.<br/>As for Cerinia... Well. The fans of the series his name is taken from are saluted. Expect more where that came from! I'll touch on this topic when it becomes more relevant.</p>
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